


Memory

by wickedradical



Series: A Stable Relationship [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Dream Bubbles, Equius POV, not using warnings bc spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:36:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedradical/pseuds/wickedradical
Summary: Equius tries to convince Nepeta to run.To run before she is killed.It does not matter if Equius dies.Nepeta is the one who matters.





	Memory

“Nepeta, you must hide.”

You fixed your moirail with the most fearsome glare you could manage, even through your sweaty, near-shattered glasses. You expected her to refuse, of course- it would be a (albeit welcome) surprise to find her obeying anyone by choice. However, the response you received was nowhere near as petty as you expected.

“Equius.. I-”

“No, Nepeta, I insist.”

You take a step forward, accidentally crushing a robot head that had rolled away from the pile. The metal is mangled so easily that even the spikes on your cleats have made a visible indent into the metal sheeting. Nepeta takes a step back, opening her mouth before closing it uneasily.

“Please pardon my language, but this is a matter of the utmost importance. I am done with your..”

You gulp, clenching your fists. If your skin wasn’t so tough, with the thickness that only highbloods are protected with, you were positive your claws would be drawing out your precious blood. Thank goodness they had not, there has been enough blood spilled already on this awful meteor. Far too much would really be an understatement.

The blasted rock you and your (as much as you hated to call them) friends had been hiding out on was far too small to contain such battling without disturbing others. Your blood had run colder than usual when you heard the distinctive cry of the heiress as she’d been killed.

You recognized a death cry when you heard it(you've had more experience than you'd like to admit), and since then had been living in fear for yourself, and more importantly, Nepeta. While you would be loath to admit it to anyone, you would give your life for her in a heartbeat. Even if she was so far lower a caste than you.

“Equius.”

Nepeta interrupts your sudden deluge of memories, voice sturdier, but still shaking. You admire her resolve, but not in any situation is which her will contradicts yours.

“Do you remember now?”

Her voice gets softer suddenly, slit pupils dilating in sympathy. You lament the fact that they have not yet turned to olive- as disgusting a color it is, it would symbolize her growing up. But if she does not stop being such a petulant wiggler, she will never get the chance to grow up.

She sounds so sad, and you will use this to your advantage, if only to hurry her up.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, but that is not the point. You interrupted me. I am absolutely done with your hoofbeat shhhhhh…..”

You can’t say it. Not even to drill your absolutely dedicated seriousness into her thick skull. Your lips twist, and you spit out a substitution.

“…Done with your hoofbeat excrement. You must go.”

Your eyes widen as your voice cracks. You begin to choke on the intensity of your words, biting your lip with the few sharp fangs you have left. You may lose more while in the inevitable fight against Gamzee, but you don’t care.

Will you be able to fight him?

Yes.

You will protect your moirail, even if it means that your bones will twist and break at the hands of such a monstrous troll.

Monstrous?

You can’t decide whether or not you still admire him.

His strength, yes. If he uses it to harm your moirail in any way, down even to the smallest hair on her head? 

_No._

If you die, it will be a worthy death.

Dying at the hands of a highblood, if only to save your dearest friend.

What an admirable death.

You tell Nepeta this, in the hope that it will scare her out of being so hesitant. Can’t she see that you are sacrificing yourself?

You drill it in further by telling her that she will die if she does not get moving _right this instant_.

You sound like such a lusus right now, but you don’t care.

It is a matter of life or death, she can giggle and call your corpse silly at a later time.

A later time where she will still be alive.

She doesn’t even smile.

You suppose she is getting wind of how dire the situation is.

Good.

She opens her mouth to speak again, and you want to scream and stamp your feet in frustration.

“Equius.”

She says your name a third time, and begins to cry. Pale green tears bubble up at the corners of her eyes.

Can’t she see that this is no time for blubbering?

“Nepeta.”

You retaliate, even harsher, voice laced with venom.

“You are not a wriggler anymore. You may sob your heart out once you are safely hidden away, but until then, remember that you are no grub. You are acting like one right now, and if I could ever see you in a concupiscent light-”

You shudder, palms slick with sweat as you set them on her shoulders.

She is so delicate, and could break at the slightest touch from any troll of your caste, but you aren’t thinking about that right now.

“I could almost say I hate you. But I do not, and we will continue to be moirails if you only just _leave_. Please.”

You resort to begging her, voice cracking like the metal still trapped underneath your foot.

Her tears finally fall over the brim of her short lashes(she was never a very feminine troll, you recall), and she takes a deep breath.

Her claws momentarily flick out, on instinct, as she clenches her fists and _yells_.

“Equius! Can’t you see?”

Her fangs are on full display as she snarls, whether in anger at you or towards her own raw display of emotion, you’ll never know.

“I’m already dead! You’re already dead! We’re both dead! Gone! Killed!”

“Killed?”

As the word slips from your lips, you gasp.

Scenes- scenes that have already happened, flash through your head.

You finally convincing her to leave and hearing her confidently tromp through the vents. Yourself setting off to confront Gamzee. Yourself.. _Unable to fight_. _Yourself ruthlessly slaughtered._

Your hands rush to your neck, tugging away corded string that isn’t even there anymore. Pain, akin to that of being _stabbed_ , flashes in your knee before disappearing.

You’re _dead_.

The scenery around you changes all at once, and you see a shining wall that curves up and away out of sight. On the other side is darkness. You hear gurgling and distant screaming, and stare as you see the sharp outline of a beak amongst the murkiness. Tentacles, so many endlessly undulating tentacles, never stopping.

You are suddenly aware of Nepeta’s soft sobbing, and glance into her eyes.

They are no longer yellow, vibrant, full of life and wonder. They are a pale, ghostly white, that which reminds you of Aradia when she was dead.

Nepeta is _dead_.

You are both dead.

“Can’t you see..?”

She chokes out a final sentence, gulping.

For lack of anything better to do, you crush her in a hug.

Not even literally. She is dead, and you can finally hug her without fear of harming her fragile olive build.

You’ve always wanted to hug her, and it is everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

She is soft, so soft, as you relax into her arms, the perpetual tension in your muscles dissolving. You have to lean down to hug her properly, but it is so worth it that you almost wish you’d risked hugging her before.

Nepeta reaches up with a single, gloved hand, papping your hair.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay.”

You are so used to being the one comforting her, being the superior troll, the one in charge. It is a welcome change to have the roles switch.

For now that you are dead, does blood color even matter anymore?

“We’re still moirails, and we always will be.”

She sniffles, cheek warm and wet against your unbroken horn.

You smile, the first sincere smile you’ve let cross your face in ages.

“Still moirails.”

You repeat it, burying your face into her shoulder as you cry.

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this all in one sitting  
> havent done that in a while- usually run out of time/inspiration/motivation


End file.
